


Bicycle

by angelheaded_hipsters



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Piningjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheaded_hipsters/pseuds/angelheaded_hipsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Jehan start dating. Enjolras starts pining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bicycle

Enjolras was usually very careful and conscientious while riding his bike home from meetings. Narrow Paris streets are not always easy to navigate on two wheels, and he really didn't want to get injured in a stupid biking accident when he had important rallies and meetings to plan.

            Today he was not so careful, because today was different. His distracting inner voice told him it really shouldn't be, because why should he be upset that two of his friends are happy? Why should he care that Jehan and Grantaire sat next to each other at the meeting today (and the past three meetings in a row)? They've done that plenty of times before. Really, it's not that large of a cafe or anything so it's perfectly reasonable. And most of all, why should he care that Jehan bent down and kissed R before he left to go- _fuck_.

            Enjolras swerved sharply to avoid a giant SUV that was taking over the narrow road. Okay, perhaps he had been a little bit too far towards the center himself, but still.

            It was a good thing he was almost home; he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to think about anything that wasn't the fact that R and Jehan were dating, and how awful he felt about it.

\--

            He should have, he reasoned while walking up the stairs to his apartment after having wrestled the bike into the one available slot left on the bike rack below, just stayed home sick today like Courfeyrac had.

            Well, no, he actually shouldn't have. He had one of those freakishly powerful immune systems, and no one would have believed him. The last time he'd gotten stay-at-home type sick was when he still lived at home. It would have made it obvious anyways, how in love he was with R. Shit, was it obvious? He almost envied Courfeyrac, as much pain as he must be in right now. At least he was open about how he felt about Jehan. There was nothing to speculate about. It was selfish of him to feel that way, he knew, but goddammit, he really just wanted Grantaire. All of him. His mouth, his curls, his cynicism, his dancer's legs, and all of his baggage too, because who was Enjolras to ignore that part of Grantaire?

            Enjolras bypassed the kitchen and the possibility of dinner in favor of collapsing on his bed. He clenched his first shut on the corner of his pillow and wished desperately that there was another man on the other side of the room, ready to lay down beside him. A certain man, of course.

            He really was hopeless, wasn't he? Everything he had ever said to Grantaire was combative, it seemed. No wonder Grantaire had started dating Jehan, Jehan the poet, not always soft but with an affinity for soft words, an artist like Grantaire himself. They had so much in common!

             And Enjolras had been too blind to see it coming, and too cowardly to tell Grantaire how he really felt. Had Grantaire considered dating Enjolras once, Enjolras wondered morosely? Why else would he have kept coming to meeting after the first few when the two of them had gotten into those spectacular fights?

            Enjolras had clung to that shred of hope for so long, too paralyzed to do anything about it but hoping, hoping... and he had waited too many days. And now this, the most ridiculously predictable, most awful thing had happened. R had fallen for someone who wouldn't constantly fight him.

            Enjolras wasn't quite sure where the strange whimpering noises were coming from at first. He didn't own a cat. And then he realized that he was actually crying, and he was confused. Real tears and real sobbing noises and shit, Enjolras did not cry over boys. He hadn't cried when his only boyfriend in high school had broken up with him. This was not right. This was not normal. He observed himself like this for a few seconds, strangely calm. He wasn't quite sure what to do about these physical reactions. What did that mean in terms of how deeply he was in love with Grantaire?

            And then his brain had the decency to catch up with his body and it was like being hit in the mouth by a wave just as you're coming up for air and oh god oh god he couldn't breathe.

            " _Grantaire. Grantaire. Please. Why?_ "

            It didn't take long for him to cry himself to sleep, and he slept so soundly, laying spread out haphazardly on his bed like that, that he didn't even notice his phone go off several times.

 

_Combeferre:_

_E, you ok?(10:27 PM)_

_Should I come over to your house tomorrow morning with pancakes and sad music? (10:31 PM)_

_I'm taking your silence as a yes. (10:36 PM)_

_Don't be shocked when you wake up and read these, you're really obvious about all of this. (10:37 PM)_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what I'm doing. Thanks to pufftaire on tumblr for the idea/telling me I should write this one on the day of piningjolras. Also, I know high school isn't "high school" in France but I didn't want to stick french words in there for some strange reason so there's that.


End file.
